


Blue Eyes and Blonde Hair

by sunshine_kin



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-31
Updated: 2004-01-31
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshine_kin/pseuds/sunshine_kin
Summary: The B/J relationship does not get easier in the days of the future. He leaves a legacy, and a sacred place in the heart. No one can ever take his place.





	Blue Eyes and Blonde Hair

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

_Authors Note:_ Inspired by a ficlet by Lori for Harry and Hermione called, Her. I think it was later renamed, The Caretaker But rather adapted it to fit Justin and Brian. I didn't reread her story, but the similarities make me feel terribly like a plagiarist. I am certain there are probably exact phrases that I've copied from her, probably because I've read this story over and over again since the day I've received it in my inbox. 

I did, however, watch the Alfred Hitchcock directed, Rebecca, which I think is what Lori based her story on.

* * *

_2029_

I wonder sometimes what he would look like today. Would he still have flawless skin and deep-sea blue eyes? Or would his perfection have sagged over time? There is no doubt in my mind _we_ would never be without him. Justin died so tragically at thirty in the accident. I can imagine Brian putting up the brave front for those surrounding them and quietly returning to the loft to cry alone in his bed. A bed is awfully large and depressing when you are by yourself. 

By then their relationship was openly loving though; Justin's photo was framed on Brian's desk next to Gus' clay figures. It is still there. Justin's paintings surrounded their home, and they each had a thin silver band on their ring finger of their left hand engraved with words no one knows, because they're never taken off. Somehow, we managed to survive the initial shock of Brian Kinney "in love," and accepted that it was for real and perfection to say the least, if not the epitome of all relationships to survive all obstacles and still live on to see the present. 

An inspiration to Pittsburgh to say the least, their commitment ceremony was a shock to all of Liberty Avenue. Who would have possibly the greatest, most promiscuous fuck of Pittsburgh would settle down? But, if the Great Brian Kinney can find love, maybe there is hope after all. Perhaps there really was hope for the rest of us. But no matter, it was a grand occasion, which unfortunately very few people were permitted to attend. 

Justin died after six years of marriage and thirteen years together. 

Ben died about two years later. Brian was still grieving, and we were all watching Ben's condition deteriorate simultaneously. He was in unbearable pain, and we all knew that it was his time. We all knew, but it was much harder to accept it. 

But I suppose their trying relationship was just more difficult than others to manage, because fate found a way to take them away from each other, for good. If there was some way I could bring him back, I don't know if I would, especially if Ben didn't come too. I love Brian, and I love living with him, and loving him. I know it's selfish, but this arrangement is so convenient. 

There was a service fit for a king presented for Justin Taylor, but Brian didn't go. He arrived very late, clothes dripping wet as a dark umbrella was carefully placed in his hands. I don't think he realized it had been raining, and no one knows what he had done during the ceremony itself. Before the coffin was sealed, Brian stood facing Sunshine's face for what felt like an age before placing a tender kiss on his forehead and briefly sliding his fingertips over Sunshine's cheek. I saw tears forming amidst the rainwater framing his face, and Brian left without another word. 

Brian returns on his own nearly every day, dutifully reciting his day and what problems he encountered. Then he places two fingers on his mouth and runs them across Justin's engraved name. There are no words that describe his pain and grief. 

Of course, Brian's convinced no one is aware of his constant visits to the cemetery, and I pretend not to notice when he comes back later from work or leaves unexpectedly in the morning. We live a happy life, and I would not want to deprive him of the one that he truly loved. I will never take his place, but we have still been together for fifteen years. Brian's nearing sixty now, but he's aged handsomely as expected; his body is still hard and toned with nothing but muscle. I know he remembers how much Justin loved his muscles. He would have whispered, "You're beautiful, Brian," just as he did when they were married, and I know he keeps the shape for Justin, not me. 

Today Justin would have turned 47 and Ben 61. They both deserved fulfilling lives, although I know they would disagree. I can imagine them looking down on my life, shushing me as I think these words and whisper tenderly, "We have lived fulfilling lives."

Since Ben passed away a while after Justin, I suppose it was only natural that we clung to one another, until our self pity grew. I loved Brian while I was with Ben, but Brian has always been the love I shall pine and long for. It's not the perfect marriage I imagined at sixteen, but nearing sixty, I realize that dreams don't always come true and I live with Brian, satisfied with the outcome. 

Oh, but his presence is everywhere, photographs of them, furniture he chose, food he likes, the art Brian bought at nearly every exhibition, the framed random sketches, the pads that we keep on the shelf, all are gently perused by Brian when I'm not around. The pages are all frail and worn from his constant flipping and loving caresses, and I know that he thinks about him often. I once found that one of Brian's linen drawers was filled with his clothes. I've never seen him wear or remove any, but I know he sifts through it often because they are rearranged every once in a while. Perhaps Brian yearns for his smell. 

Brian dreams of him often, and all I can do is comfort him as he tearfully cries out Justin's name in his sleep, stretching his long arms into empty space. He dreams of the prom, the sickness, the fatal incident less often nowadays, but when he does, he is more emotional and passionate than he used to be. I can tell our time is nearing its end.

I was advised against pursuing a relationship with Brian, but I was neither blind nor fantasizing when he asked me to marry him. My mother constantly berated him to propose and "make it official" that he finally relented, and for her sake, and our own sanities, we agreed to marry.

We decided early on that our commitment would not be expressed publicly, but he felt bad that Ben gave me none such ring, so I wear a ring Brian gave me strung on a silver chain around my neck, at Brian's request. Brian wears Justin's ring, still, and my ring sits unceremoniously in a jeweler's box. I don't mind, because we are together whether or not my ring is worn. I have yet to discover what is engraved inside that ring, nor do I want to know. This is their secret, and not my place to intrude upon.

There was once a time when all I craved was to have Brian glance at me with the adoring charm Justin always receives, but that is not plausible. I'm smiled at, occasionally, but his smile is weak and distant. The smile I long for is one he gives only when the sun shines. It hasn't shone for nearly thirty years. 

Gus has matured beautifully in the spitting straight image of Brian. My husband is proud of his son, who has a beautiful wife and two lovely children, all of which, including Gus himself, address me as "uncle" because their other father had passed away long ago. I don't mind though, I have cared for him, and I realize that the title means nothing, because I am every bit of a mother and a father to Gus as Melanie, Lindsay and Brian. 

We always make very gentle love. None of that hard pounding I have always heard about. Never having experienced Brian before it happened, I have nothing to compare. This is the only Brian I can know, the only one I will know. Liberty Avenue collectively mourned as Brian stopped tricking again completely when our relationship began. He does these things for Justin, and although I don't acknowledge them as such, we both know that I am but someone to keep him company while he lives the rest of his life. I politely allow him to occasionally whisper his name into my ear in the throes of ecstasy and passion, another sign that I will never fill the void in his heart.

Sometimes Brian wakes up and is shocked to see me. He always assumes Justin is sleeping next to him, and a mass of brown hair always startles him. I pretend to never notice. 

The two of us are content, taking morning walks together and chatting quietly, we were of course, best friends after all. But the spark was gone and the fire in his eyes was out. My comic book stores have been sold, and Brian's planning to sell his advertising company, which he started at Justin's encouragement. 

Oh, the others all mourned as well, but we all know that this is a detour in life, another journey before we reach a better destination. It would be simple, we are merely using each other's company before death. I hope Justin doesn't mind that I took care of Brian for him, that Ben won't mind Brian took care of me, that I was the "other father" for Gus. There is no perfection, and we both craved companionship. I do still long for the day that Brian will look into my eyes and exhibit a fraction of that intense flame that Sunshine always received. But Brian's eyes are empty. Brian's such a fatalist, he knows that he belongs with Justin, and I see the remaining light in his eyes dim a little more every day as he waits for his death. Brian waits patiently with me, while I wait for Ben and when I run into Ben's arms, Brian will run to Justin. Justin will flash a Sunshine smile, and we will all finally be together again.


End file.
